Loving Him Was Red
by BabyBlueEyes23
Summary: "We use to make up stories about how our lives would turn out…What we would do when we were older." AU Dan and Blair.
1. Chapter 1

_**Loving Him Was Red**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **Part I**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **"Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you.**_

 **-Taylor Swift,** _ **Red**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

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 _ **~0~**_

She raises the glass to her lips, taking small sips of the aged wine, while willing herself not to empty it with a single gulp. Her impassive gaze sweeps across the plethora of all too familiar faces, ones composed of plastic features, and counterfeit grins.

Some muster up enough courage to greet her, _the one and only Blair Bass_ , and she would fane the slightest amount of jubilance, the ever debutante that she is.

once upon a time, the alabaster skinned vixen had been mildly indulged by there unnegated attention, and would have reveled in the way they gawk at her, as if some sort of etherial being. However in recent years, sense her matrimony to the feted man made of money, _Chuck Bass_ , her indifference to the whole spectacle had increased greater by the day, Blair soon adopting a sort of passive nature when it came to the public eye.

Admittedly, not many patrons of the reception had introduced themselves this particular evening, most deciding to stare from afar, and exchange hushed whispers with those nearby.

Blair could hear the spiteful comments as if the speakers had announced them through a megaphone. _Third party in a row without her husband_ , they would note. _But she's still wearing her ring_ , another would point out. _I heard he's screwing some chick from Progue_ , some would gossip.

Disgusted by the lot of them, Blair drops her facade of perfection and swigs down the glass, before on the hunt for another round.

 **.~0~.**

Four glasses later, and carrying a newly popped bottle, Blair finds herself wandering the corridors of the prestigious hotel, humming along to an old lullaby her father had sung to her long ago. Back when the frivolous shell of youth had clung unyieldingly to her fragile form, and before the innocent tendency of carrying her heart on her sleeve had been an act of sincerity rather than foolishness.

As she takes a sip from the tonic, her eyes sweep over the familiar alcove she has stumbled into, a nostalgic grin tugging on the ends of her lips.

 _The Palace_ is a hotel that is not unfamiliar when the _Upper East Side_ holds one of it's myriad of parties, ranging from prestigious galas, to the venue of the reception of a matrimonial event. Due to this, Blair and her friends had explored the grounds of the hotel numerous times, as a technique to evade the agonizing social events that they had been forcefully dragged to by their respective parents. Although, this particular spot holds a exceptional place in her heart. And soon Blair finds herself staring wistfully through the glass window, lost in the revery of her juvenescence.

Her mind floods with recollections of herself at a tender age, her untamed tendrils flying freely behind her as she runs across the labyrinth, chased by a familiar boy with eyes of onyx, their chortles echoing throughout the halls, only drained by the music dancing from the floor beneath them.

"There you are," a masculine voice intrudes upon Blair's solitude, forcing her to be thrust back into the present day.

Blair pivots on her heals to find the dark eyed boy she had just been thinking of, a boy who has now grown into a dashing young man, and is dressed dapperly for one of the most vital days of his short life.

He steps closer to her, a warm expression spread across his features.

"Dan?" The brunette questions with a hiked brow. "What are you doing here?"

"It is my wedding Waldorf," he snarks playfully. "I'm not sure if the whole _marriage thing_ would have worked without me."

"I know that," Blair crosses her arms over her chest indignantly, tossing her weight to her left hip. "I meant more specifically why are you _here_ ," she clarifies tersely.

The boy chuckles as he joins her besides the outlook of Manhattan's revered skyline. "I was looking for you, and suspected that you'd be here."

Blair beams, touched that the recent months of separation hadn't strained the fact that he knows her better than any other has ever, or would ever.

Without another word spoken, the pair stand side by side, gawking towards the twinkling streetlights below, acting as their own personal starlights on the ground.

"Do you remember that game we use to play," Dan ponders out loud, never tearing his gaze from the congested underbelly of the _ever so pristine_ Manhattan.

"We use to make our own constellations, with our own stars," Blair nods fondly.

"Yeah," Dan shifts his glance to the girl he has known longer than his memory allows him to know, Blair Waldorf had always just _been there, no questions asked. "We use to make up stories about how our lives would turn out…What we would do when we were older."_

 _Blair locks her pools of chocolate onto his, the sudden tension between them becoming palpable._

 _Of course Blair knows precisely to what he is speaking of, they after all are the memories she has tenderly tucked away in the most cherished crooks of her heart, ,_ only to be recollected during those especially desperate moments… _Memories of how on those especially lonely nights, they had clung onto one another, and the ignorant hope that they would be all the other needs for all the years to come._

 _He would take grasp of her dainty hand, and illustrate stupendous tales of what would become of them, with nothing more than the words soaring from his lips, and images they were able to conjure up with the streetlights below. And as a child her age would, Blair believed him wholeheartedly, and allowed herself to be lost in the hopes they had so daftly strung together._

However, as one would have suspected, a child's fantasy never had the chance to withstand the tumultuous curves life throws.

"Dan…Where does Serena think you are?" Blair inquires timidly, already speculating what the answer would be.

Dan shuts his lids in defeat. "She thinks I'm checking on the photographer," he divulges.

Blair frowns, certain in their both knowing that Serena, _despite her ditzy moments_ , is well aware to the true whereabouts of her newly proclaimed husband.

"You should go to her," Blair sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, knowing precisely what her words allude to. "She deserves to spend the happiest day of her life alongside the man who made it happen."

"I miss you, _a lot_." Dan proclaims, disregarding her advice, and taking a step closer, so they stand mere inches apart. "I don't like this, _I don't like any of it_."

Instinctively, she reaches to clasp their hands together, emphasizing her empathy with a small squeeze. If it had been up to her, Blair and Dan would remain in this spot, holding on to one another, for the rest of time, staring at the ground below, and entertaining one another with stories of what is surely to come, _lost in their own slice of eternity._ However, Blair is well aware to what has become of them, and how no longer does he belong to her, She must force herself to let him go completely, no matter the pain it is surely to inflict.

"I know you don't, neither do I," she discloses. "But you like Serena, _a lot_." Blair intones as she turns to face him cautiously, catching the aversion of his gaze, which she takes as an affirmation to her claim.

"And we aren't kids anymore, we can't dream up what our lives will end up like…It has already come into fruition, and we're both married," she chokes out a sardonic chuckle, a venom weaved into the words spilling out. "And we have to embrace what life has bestowed."

The brunette uses a tentative hand to cup his cheek, a satirical grin melting into her features…And in that exact moment, with her touching him like she had so many times prior, all her most treasured memories surge forward.

Ones of her first kiss, that she had reasoned would only make sense to share with him, dancing with him at their senior prom, and the numerous spats they shared throughout the lifetime they had to get it right...All she could ever want in a person, _and she must let it all go_.

"Just be happy, okay?" She pleads with a tremor.

Dan swears, while sweeping away the tears beginning to swell in her lovely eyes, imploring her to find her own joy as well.

..

..

..

 **A/N: So this is part 1 of 4 :D**

 **I really want to complete this one, because I think it could be the best Dair story I have written. So you guys pleaseeeee let me now what you think33 Anything you have to tell me means the world…From criticism to anything else really…It just all means the world, and truly inspires me to continue on writing.**

 **And if you guys like this enough to actually leave me a review, please feel free to send me a prompt for these lovely cuties to write sense I've got a whole series dedicated to one-shots of Dair3 LOL :D**

 **So again, please let me know what you thought3**

 **Thank you so much my fellow dairlings3**

 **~BabyBlueEyes23**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Loving Him Was Red**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **Part II**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **Memorizing him was as easy as knowing the words to your old favorite tune.**_

 _ **-**_ **Taylor Swift** _ **Red**_

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 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

The grounds of the prestigious country club has been over run by the meandering guests of the annual brunch, garnished in gowns and tuxes that one would only expect to find on the cover of pretentious fashion magazines. The colorless hues of their apparel mimic the blank expressions of their far to poised grins, and rigid posture.

The boy sits obediently, tossing a scornful glare from person to person as they pass by, despising the very thought that he calls them his peers. The child finds it fitting that they appear as if specs of cotton, faded to eternally levigate in their pristinely kept bubble of falsehoods and scandals, eternally insistent that they stand high above those whom hadn't been bestowed millions at their birth into this warped world.

For a moment, dan toys with the thought of floating off, alongside the clouds, far away from what swarms around him, and destined never to return. Perhaps that would act as a more preferable norns than to endure another moment with those whom surround him.

Dan's revery of escaping into another world had been shattered by the sound of a girl voicing his name.

Expecting the caller to be the blonde made of rainbows and sunshine, whom had departed from his side mere moments ago in search of her mother, Dan willingly ignores the sound, refusing to have his solitude shattered by the girl's incessant giggles, and talk of whatever holds her interest for that particular hour. However, despite his determination in retaining his solitude, the ebony haired boy eventually lets out an exasperated sigh, and gives into the now hissing. Though once he turns around, he finds the girl to being quite precisely Serena Vendor Woodson's antithesis.

Blair Waldorf, clad in a gown with far to many ruffles, and heals that should be outlawed for girls her age, kneels a few feet from where he stands, shrouded by primly kept bushes, and vividly toned Cornelia's.

Once she catches his gaze, and is certain in his attention focused upon her, she gives a wave of her hand, instructing him to follow suit.

Dan cranes a brow towards the girl, apprehensive to her intentions. Though, the peevish glower set in her delicate features cause him to quickly obey, despite his preference of staying put.

 **~0~**

The pair stumble across the open field, tripping over themselves as they make it across the treacherous path of fallen branches, and conveniently placed weeds. As the minutes drag on, Dan begins to feel spiteful towards the brunette, and a bit envious that she had made the wise decision of leaving her footwear behind.

"Blair, where are we going!" The ten year old boy abruptly stops, refusing to take another step until she answers him.

Blair turns on her heals, each hand finding it's way to her hips, and a pout residing in her features. "Come on Daniel," she insists tartly. "It's not much farther."

"What's not?" He demands with an agitated glare, the insufferable heat of the summer sun becoming far too much to handle.

"You'll see Humphrey," Blair teases while she takes grasp of the boy's wrist and runs towards her destination, Leaving Dan to do nothing but follow as if a lost pug.

To the boys delight, it isn't much longer until the slight brunette loosens her grip and shouts out a theatrical, "Tada!"

At her prompting, Dan strays his gaze to evaluate where precisely she had dragged him to.

The minuscule alcove is a lovely sight, he must give her that, with bright flowers embed into the strikingly green ground, and the pond lying mere feet away. A pleasant sight indeed, though that doesn't prove a worthy enough reason for the ordinarily pragmatic and sensible Blair Waldorf to have brought him here.

"It's…nice?" Dan reasons questioningly.

"You haven't even seen the best part!" Blair leers as she moves behind a particularly large rock, only to return with a tray of sweets from the brunch in her dainty hands.

"Dorota helped me snatch them up from the kitchen," the girl explains pridefully as she takes a seat upon a patch of grass, signaling the raven haired boy to join her. Although, dan remains standing, his curiosity only increasing with each word Blair speaks.

"Blair, why did you take me here," he articulates with furrowed brows and crossed arms.

"What? You don't like it?" The brunette queries with a flutter of her thick lashes, and the pinching of a frown to her lips.

"Cut it out Blair," Dan sighs. "I'm not your father, the puppy eyes won't effect me."

"You know Daniel, cynicism really doesn't become you. I much prefer it when you are acting like an eternal optimist, at least then it's fun messing with you're head." Blair scoffs with a role of her eyes.

"I'll take that into consideration," he counters as he sits besides his long time friend. "Now the reason Waldorf."

"What? you'd rather be sitting all alone in that stupid brunch?" The almond eyed beauty Brussels. "You really should be thanking me Daniel, I helped you by taking you here."

The boy tosses her insistence an exasperated grin, he never being able to hold a grudge against her.

"So you, Blair Waldorf, just decided to skip out on showing off your new dress, and hanging around your dad's Yale friends?" Dan queries smugly, picking up one of the elaborately embellished sweets from the brass tray.

"Well…" Blair starts begrudgingly. "I suppose I also caught a glimpse of your parents hostility…And reasoned that you would rather not have to be surrounded by people you hate."

Freezing mid-bite, Dan strays his gaze back to Blair, startled by her precision.

"What gave it away?"

"Not one particular thing per say…" Blair mutters, a flush coloring her alabaster skin. "I just know you…I guess..."

The boy, a few months her senior, eyes her curiously, a coy grin playing on the edges of his lips.

"Don't tell me you've got a crush on me now," Dan taunts tartly.

"Eww, that's so totally gross," Blair yelps with a smack to his arm. "I'm trying to be nice, and you're being a total jerk!"

"Don't be so dramatic princess," he waves her frustrations away. "I couldn't blame you if you did."

With an indignant furrow of the brows, Blair snatches one of the myriad of treats from where they sit, and aims a hit directly at his infuriating smirk.

Dan is stunned when feeling the creamy substance smacking into his face.

"Bullseye!" Blair exclaims, soon losing herself in a fit of cackles at the risible sight.

"Oh you are going to regret that Waldorf," the boy swears with a determined glare set in his features, as he equips himself with a dulcet treat in each hand.

Dan chases the brunette throughout the open field, their ebullient laughter intermingling in a haze of sunlight, and joy. and for that precise moment, the pair resides in their own world, a garden of eaten in which they are the only beings permitted to enter…One where they let loose of all that pains them, and can allow themselves to revel in their own laughter.

 **~0~**

eventually, their ammunition runs low, and the pair agree upon a treaty to resolve their _proxy-war_. Dan ensures to have both Blair's hands in complete sight, _knowing precisely what her views on treaties are_ …"They are a farce, unless all avenues of betrayal are put to rest."

They find themselves resting atop the moist grass of the late summer, an an indulgence of half a slice of red velvet cake in each of their hands.

Their gazes wander the quickly darkening twilight sky, appreciating the vivid shafts of blazing mandarin and gentle gold scraping across the azure skyline. The pair exchange small chuckles as they watch the clumps of ivory dance across the endless expanse, regaling themselves with tales of what each one represents.

"It's that one," Blair insists while pointing a perfectly manicured nail towards a particularly large cloud. "It totally looks like Serena's second step dad!"

Dan shifts his gaze to examine the cloud in question, quickly conceding to her claim. "It even has his nose," he squints in an amazed sort of aw.

Blair's giggles quickly dye down as she turns her head to where his lies, and she takes a closer examination of a face she knows better than the back of her hand.

"Was it a bad fight?" She questions him timorously, cautious not to bring a wave of grief to wash over him once more.

Though the girl is shocked in finding that if anything, the boy radiates a sense of indifference towards the situation as a whole.

"I guess it was pretty bad," the raven haired boy shrugs, turning his attention to his closest friend. And at that moment, he feels a sense of pity for her, and for him, and for all of the children in this cluster of family values, which in reality has become a caricature of how a true, and functioning family should operate.

"My mom isn't speaking to him…So I think it might be."

Blair feels a wrenching of her heart at the sound of the apathy drenching his hallow words…Without thought, she takes grasp of his left hand, granting him a reassuring squeeze.

"You've still got me," she declares. " _Always_."

Dan isn't sure if it is from the iridescent glimmer in her deep pools of caramel, or the effervescent inflection in which she speaks her words…but either way, Dan feels as if he can allow himself to trust this little girl _with everything_ …And so he does, he allows himself to believe the oath, and promises her the same.

 **..**

 **..**

 **Eleven Years Later**

 **..**

 **..**

 **..**

Shafts of the mid afternoon light piers through the windows of the quaint bistro, panning across the patrons, and creating a story with the shadows dancing atop the tables.

The man lounges on one of the seats of the cafe, cradling his chin upon his palm, as his other hand idly toys with the novel lying before him. The book, with his name embedded on the ebony cover in a golden shine, is the physical manifestation of all the man had strived and fought for for the entirety of his life. It is the epitome of his dreams sense childhood, but at the moment, he is incapable to muster the slightest amount of glee at the sight of it.

In all honesty, dan is starting to believe the accomplishment had cost more than it's worth.

The story had taken nearly half a decade to complete, and months to edit, only being published mere months subsequent to his matrimony to Serena Vendor Woodson.

The peace had sold remarkably well, shooting up to _New york's_ best sellers list in a matter of weeks, and claiming it's perch for weeks to come. however, the social ramifications that the novel had lead to _were quite tense to say the least_ , and in all honesty, Dan should not be surprised.

The tale wrote of a queen from a far away land, one revered for her striking beauty, of almond locks and alabaster skin. _Rivaled only by her intimidating intelligence, most speak of her ability to beat a man at chess with only three, extremely_ _strategic turns._

Obviously, the queen's hand in marriage had been a hot topic throughout the lands, men slaughtering others for the simple opportunity to speak with the enchantress, though only three _truly_ presenting a viable choice. One a noble night from her guard, another the heir of the wealthiest merchant of the seven seas, and the third being a prince of a minuscule, neighboring nation. Each presents the beauty with something her people need, _strength, wealth, and an expansion of land_ , respectively.

However, none know of where her true heart lies. None are aware to the boy of rags whom she sneaks away with in the depth of the night, a boy whom had been her nearest and dearest comrade sense childhood. A boy whom she had been content in rendezvousing with in a tucked away crevasse of the castle, teasing herself with hopes of perhaps being able to wed him one day in the distant future. However, the vitality that had once fumed those fantasies had forcibly been put to rest when she had been forced to choose a king to rule by her side.

Ultimately, she choose the young prince of the neighboring land…Though the assignations had never faulted, only made more secretive and meticulously thought out.

Both lovers were convinced in their devotion, spending years on end in secret, even baring a child that had been past off as the prince's. However, their adultery had never been meant to last, and a decade post her matrimony, they were caught in a _rather heated_ _embrace._

 _The boy of rags had been put to death by guillotine, and out of grief, the queen was soon to follow by slitting her own wrists…_ The last words she had ever written were an oath that she will find his soul once more, and they will be able to live the life of love that they were robbed of in this lifetime.

Dan was startled when Serena had blatantly inquired him if he was at all romantically linked with Blair, post the books release. Though in retrospect, Dan supposes that he should have probably changed the lovers names from Dave, and Clair…

That had been the start of the _Blair Waldorf embargo_ …Dan was barred from meeting, or even _speaking_ , with his childhood friend by his newly proclaimed wife. And Dan is ashamed to say that he had went along with the commandment. If he were a better man, Dan would say it was due to the obvious distress being around the brunette made his wife, though Dan is damn well positive that the _embargo_ would act as a viable excuse from having to be around Blair and her husband of three years…It pained Dan, watching as another can hold her and kiss her in the ways he could only dream of doing.

It's been a year sense Serena's terms have been set in place, the only instances that Dan had seen the ever allusive Blair Waldorf were quick exchanges of hello in the innumerable galas that attend, and the awkward pass by when they find that they've stumbled in the same place at the same time, _from minuscule cafe's to rare book stores_. However, nothing seems to have improved in the slightest, _in fact it all feels as if it is detracting before his very eyes._

 _Subsequent to his first publication, Dan finds that he is quite incapable of even attempting a new peace. No matter how he began the story, the words that had once streamed from his finger tips as if a reservoir , refused to even sprout out a single phrase…Dan has lost all motivation to write, and it sickens him._

 _The frustrations and pressure of his current predicament had led the young man to find solace more and more often in the bottom of a bottle of scotch, somehow feeling more at peace once everything that surrounds him is in a haze._

It isn't to long until his arguments with the blonde that he calls his wife, become far to prevalent…nearly every night…And they aren't sporadic bickering like he had with _her_ , rather Dan actually feels bothered by the venom laced in each of their words.

Though it isn't the dissolving state of his career and marriage that is erking Dan at the moment, but rather it's the brunette that seems to invade his each and every thought these days.

He's positive that she's read it, she's _probably more prideful of the peace than he_. However, he didn't get any sort of message from her, _just the generic congratulatory letter_ that she sends everyone over good news.

Dan debates the thought of calling her himself, _for the millionth time_ , and asking her of her true thoughts on the novel…Though just like each time before, he decides against it, and heads off back to his home, leaving the book behind in his wake.

 **~0~**

Dan isn't shocked in finding the opulent, penthouse suite vacant of anyone. At this moment, Serena must be partying with one of her myriad of friends, and teasing boys from a mile around.

The man can't speak his disapproval of the act, because in all honesty, he wouldn't want to be married to himself at the moment either.

Dan saunters off into their pristinely kept kitchen, in search of a snack before he heads off to bed, however, he abruptly stops once catching sight of a box atop the counter.

The young man lifts the envelope resting on the package, addressed to his name, but cleared of any return address. However Dan doesn't need that, immediately having recognized the distinctive loop in her writing, and the miniature hearts tucked beneath the Bs.

Dan tares open the envelope to find a note comprised of nothing but a single sentence.

 _"One of My favorite authors hasn't' written anything after his first peace, I'd hate to think of him as a one hint wonder."_

Without his even realizing it, a grin finds itself to dan's lips, she always having had that effect on him. The dark haired man, with a flush yet tinting his cheeks, lifts the lid of the box, curious to what it holds.

The first item he pulls out is his novel, identical to the one he had when in the cafe, save for a note attached to the front, informing the man not to fix what isn't broken.

The last thing he finds in the _pandora's Box_ is a scrap book, which immediately thrusts him back into junior high, when Blair's room had been filled to the brim with glitter, unique scissors, and a myriad of other equipment that Dan didn't recognize. He also recalls the dainty brunette yelling out how idiotic he was whenever he toyed with the material.

As he flips throw the photo book, his heart swells. He finds pictures of him throughout his youth, ranging from him as a small boy, to graduation day of high school.

Sometimes, he would find people on the outskirts of the picture, like Serena or friends from his soccer team, though the constant in each snapshot proves to be the infuriating, and dazzling brunette…Blair Waldorf had _always been there_ , and he will be damned if she disappears now.

 **~0~**

 **A/N: Hey you guys, so I'm sorry for the long wait…School has been really hectic, and I should actually be writing one of my papers rn….But I committed that I wouldn't go out, or do any other work until I had this chapter published….Pleaseeee let me know what you think… Your reviews realllyyyyy help a lot in inspiring me to write, so please let me know what you thought33**

 **And BTW I do have a series of one-shots committed just to DB called Curse of curves so if you guys have any one-shot requests, or any questions in general, pleaseeeeee feel free to message me**

 **All My Love**

 **~BabyBlueEyes23**


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